Mortality and the Artist
It's a subject no one likes to think about. Personally, I think
it's profoundly unfair that an artist's work outlives the artist, but
there you go.
The untimely loss of my dearest artist friend to a traffic accident
recently has had me pondering this for quite a few days. He had
been working on some major projects which were garnering museum
involvement, as well as painting for upcoming exhibitions.
Tragically, these shall remain incomplete, and we will not see his
vision realized other than through sketches stuffed in boxes and
drawers.
Part of my ponderings led me to the corners of my own studio with a
critical eye looking for incomplete projects - several jumped out at me
and I began to plan their completion as a priority. It is so easy for
me to procrastinate and in doing that, some things I have wanted to do
for years just sit there in everlasting wait-mode, the 'To be or Not to
be' area.
Another thing, in some artists studios, there are inevitably works
which for one reason or another just didn't come off right - I call
them 'stinkers'. Personally I stick these pieces in a large portfolio
if on paper, or roll them up if on canvas, and put them in a 'to be
reviewed, re-worked or just plain chucked' area - decisions to be made
later - again procrastination.
As in the case of my friend who also had his own private
to-be-dealt-with stash, I was concerned that a few of them might show
up in a gallery retrospective of his work some day. I knew some of the
pieces he was planning on re-working and cringed a little for
him just in case. Because I also would not want that to happen to any of my
rejects, yesterday was spent ripping up, cutting up liberally with big
scissors, and throwing out pieces I just knew I would not get around to
handling. It was in fact liberating because a decision was
finally made about them and my attention could go elsewhere - to the
creation of fresh new pieces. When they were in the 'maybe' pile, it
was a little bit of dunnage occupying my creative universe, but it was
imperceptible until I actually dealt with them. I can rest easy knowing
that when I depart this life, hopefully in the very distant future,
some well meaning soul will not hold my rejects as precious pieces of
art. I must now continue to keep this pile weeded out.
As an aside to the weeding process in the studio, I had to do this when
no one was around, including my wonderful studio assistant who
protested the throwing out of a piece or two in the past. Because
the work must meet the artists personal standards, only the artist can
decide if it is good enough or not, does it meet the mark? True,
sometimes an objective viewpoint is necessary, but in the end, what the
author of the work decides about it must stand.
Back to my friend's work - he was a terrific artist, but did not leave
behind a huge body of work. I am so thankful to be the owner of one,
and now wish I had a few more pieces. The family has decided that no
more of his paintings will be sold in the near future, although some
limited edition giclees will still be available. A lovely collection of this artists
giclees may still be available at
Madd Matters Gallery.
Some advice for collectors and lovers of art - if you like the work of a living
artist, for heavens sake, make arrangements to buy it - at some point
it may be unavailable for purchase or cost an astronomical amount, and
besides, buying a living artist's work enables them to continue
creating and adding more beauty and meaning to all of our lives. Let's
not take for granted they will always be there.

7 Responses to Mortality and the Artist - a personal view.
via diannhaist.com
I think it's interesting that you think it unfair that an artist's work outlives the artist.
For the most recent mailart project I've been reviewing some Plato (unrelated to my horrid tardiness on this project) but related to one of my pieces. I was reskimming "Symposium" the dialogue that deals with the creative endeavor. One of the exchanges in the dialogue reflects on how the union of two minds (in Plato's day, two men) created Ideas these progeny would live on forever. This perpetuity of the idea is, resulting form creative work or collaboration is a fascinating notion to me.
Plato talks it up as superior to the progeny of a union between a man and woman (a child) because the latter is not eternal as is the Idea. I've personally produced both -- object of thought and children and I'm not sure the former is superior to the latter, but it's an interesting perspective. Things live on without us, be they children or works of art/thought, and that to me is both the beauty and the bitter-sweetness of this life that we all live, and create each day.
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I just saw some of his work at Madd Matters yesterday, so I can relate to some of what you write about. We actually had a discussion about what we personally consider a great art piece, or one we feel 'so, so' about. In some cases, I have found out I cannot always judge my own work, because someone may love a piece I'm not that particularily fond of. This happened to me recently. I had worked very hard on one, and put my heart and soul into it, but then....thought it wasn't worthy to put into the show. A friend said it was his favorite, the framed picked it out as his favorite, and the gallery owner put it into a 'prime' spot in the gallery. Well, it sold the night of the opening.
I guess what I'm saying is, "Be careful what you toss out!". Your art is beautiful, and I can't imagine too many failures.
Please accept my condolensces on your huge loss of a wonderful friend.
Good luck in your future!
Karen Mattson
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Indeed our offspring will hopefully carry our values in the beauty of living through the ages as well, just as we project our ancestors ideals. Like you, I am not certain that Plato's view, with ideas being more important than the progeny of men and women, but it is true that the idea is eternal, if known and agreed upon. Both are equally important in my view. Living is all the richer for both.
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Very touching. Made me think about my own process. Mostly I am a painter who sticks to one painting at a time. So there usually are not to many unfinished paintings hanging around. Just my own way of painting.
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What a tremendously personal blog! Dealing with the loss of a good friend is tough enough, but using its implications as a motivator to do what most artists often avoid is remarkable. Everyone deals with loss in their own way, but you have found a positive where most would find and dwell on the negative.
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This article actually made me laugh a little---a commodity in short supply these days---laughter. I imagine Eric cringing as we pulled out some of the work he had hidden away. As his wife, I treasure anything his paintbrush touched, but it does remind me that I may want to make a burn pile for the many poems I have abandoned along the way. Thank you for writing about him. I have "Eric in Green" where I see it when I awake in the morning.
Gretchen